


Hiding in plain sight

by yue_ix



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Akihito loves flirting with danger, Dating is dangerous when your lover is a Yakuza, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, Glasses, M/M, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sex in a Car, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yue_ix/pseuds/yue_ix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pair of glasses and the hat should have been the perfect cover. He's confident no one can recognize him, and thus Akihito will be free to  spy on Asami.</p><p>After all, it's important to study dangerous beasts in their natural habitat, so as to spot their weaknesses. Not that Asami is a <i>beast</i>-beast, though he certainly ravaged Akihito savagely enough last night to warrant the title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding in plain sight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> The sexual consent and kink negotiations in this work are consistent with those of the canon, which is to mean: barely existent and not particularly portrayed as problematic.
> 
> Thank you [lunchee](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchee) for the beta! <3

The pair of glasses and the hat should have been the perfect cover. 

Akihito almost never wears hats, nor glasses, and he's never been to this particular club that Asami owns. Plus, he gets there plenty of time in advance, and chooses a lone table way at the back where the lighting seems dimmer. He's confident no one can recognize him, and thus Akihito feels free to spy on Asami.

After all, it's important to study dangerous beasts in their natural habitat, so as to spot their weaknesses. Not that Asami is a _beast_ -beast, though he certainly ravaged Akihito savagely enough last night to warrant the title.

“Barely even used lube,” Akihito grumbles, shifting in his seat. He hastily adjusts his glasses and hat when a cute waitress comes over.

“This is for you, sir,” she says, sliding a soda in front of him.

“I didn't order anything though.”

The waitress gives him a tense smile. “It's from the gentlemen over there.” She points over to – oh, _shit_. Leaning against a pillar with drink in hand is Asami. His intense, amused eyes bear down into Akihito's soul even from across the room.

Akihito considers fleeing, eyeing the exit nearest his seat. Two beefy guys are guarding it. One of them winks at him.

Akihito sighs, gets up and drags his feet mulishly to where Asami's waiting for him.

“I wasn't spying on you,” Akihito blurts out.

Asami raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of his drink. It's probably vodka more expensive than Akihito's best camera, damn him.

“I wasn't!” Akihito protests. “I was –” He realises too late he should have said he _was_ spying. Shit, now he's totally blown his cover. He pouts and looks away.

Asami leans down to whisper in his ear. “Should I tell you what you were doing?” Akihito swallows and stays very still. “You were worried,” Asami nibbles Akihito's earlobe. “You were checking up on me.”

Akihito flushes deep red. “Who would-!”

Asami chuckles. "It's a coincidence, is it? You showing up here with a knife and a terrible disguise, just hours after I find out someone using our apartment's internet connection hacked into my work emails? Work emails that just happen to mention that I'd be meeting clients in a club that you've never stepped foot into before today?" 

“My disguise isn't that bad,” Akihito frowns, reaching up to remove his glasses. The concealed knife had been a gift, after the whole Feilong casino clusterfuck. Akihito hates to admit it, but once he had been taught how to use the knife, he brought it along with him whenever he didn't feel safe.

“It is. It's almost charmingly naive.”Asami captures his hand before he can put away his glasses. “Keep them on.”

Akihito squints. He knows Asami. Everything Asami does is for a reason. Often a morally ambiguous or lecherous reason, if not both. “Why?”

“Because they'll be your signal. Push them up your nose if you want me to adjust the intensity. Remove them if you want me to stop. But removing them will also result in my security escorting you away from the premises. Are we clear?”

Akihito isn't sure he likes where this is going. Aware he's walking into a trap but unable to resist the lure dangling in front of his face, Akihito asks, “What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, Asami hands Akihito his liquor and reaches into his jacket's inner pocket and retrieves two small objects. One's a relatively small tapered plug, the other, a remote control.

Akihito raises his head and stares at Asami with huge eyes.

“An eye for an eye. You snoop on my email, I check your browser history. You've been looking at interesting websites and even more adventurous toys. I bought you one. You can stay and spy on me, but you keep this inside of you.”

Akihito downs Asami's drink in one go. He is fucked.

*

Or not, as it turns out.

More accurately, Akihito is pressed against the black marble countertop of the men's restroom. His shirt and tee are rucked up his back, his jeans and underthings pooled around his ankles. Asami's long, thick, evil fingers are teasing in and out of his ass.

They're well lubed, for once, and slide in like they were always meant to be there, held tight and close inside of him. When they pull away, Akihito can't stop pushing his ass back and chasing after them. Asami is making his usual comments about how Akihito's body is begging for it, but they have none of the condescending bite they once held. Perhaps because Akihito stopped seeing sex with a man as anything to be ashamed of. Or perhaps because he knows Asami by now; he hears the controlled breathing behind the words, feels how hard Asami is against his back. It must be torture to resist fucking Akihito.

Akihito snorts. Asami is thrusting his fingers back in with enough force to make Akihito's sweaty body slide along the counter. His glasses are askew and fogged-up. But Akihito's the one on top of things here. He's got nothing to lose, and the longer Asami is in here, the less time he has to meet with creepy smugglers.

Akihito's doesn't hold back his moans.

*

His plan almost works. But right as Asami was starting to breathe faster into Akihito's neck, a goon politely knocks on the door and tells Asami the smuggler has arrived. Asami stops playing with Akihito instantly. Picking the plug up from the counter, he expertly pushes it in until the wider base is snug against his hole. He then turns and fixes up his clothing.

Panting, Akihito gingerly pushes back from the counter and slowly puts his clothes back on. Asami carefully washes his hands, looking for all the world calm and collected. He pointedly places the remote control of the plug into his pocket.

“Go back to your table and wait for my meeting to finish. Be a good boy, and you'll enjoy your evening.”

Akihito nods, testing how to stand upright with the plug in. He'll need to hold onto the counter and the wall. He's a little shaky and somewhat apprehensive of the evening to come, but there's a drop of lube on Asami's shoe the man hasn't noticed. Akihito hopes it mars the perfect polished leather.

He raises his head and meets Asami's eyes dead-on in the mirror. He gives him a daring grin.“I will.”

*

All too soon, Akihito is back at his empty table, clutching his soda and trying his best not to fidget in his seat. Twitching makes his inner muscles milk the vibe and ricochets the sensations up to his skull, scattering his thoughts. Observing the negotiations going on in the corner of the club too obviously means Asami catches him staring and randomly changes the settings of the toy as a warning.

Instead, he breathes deeply and tries to find something to focus on to distract himself. He watches the other patrons, some of them nursing drinks alone, some in pairs or small groups, and takes tiny, shaking gulps of his soda.

The toy keeps on vibrating inside him.

If Akihito holds very, very still, it's a manageable sensation. However, the effort it takes to stay immobile leads to hyper-awareness of his body, which makes him exponentially focused on the toy buzzing in his ass. On how the widest part fills him, how the base digs into his buttocks, how the vibrations liquify his spine and dulls his senses. The world around him is out of focus, a shapeless background. He feels like a bad collage.

As if sensing his loosened grasp of self, the toy buzzes faster, jarring Akihito back into his surroundings. He realises he's gasping for air and sweating enough that his glasses are slipping down his nose. Over the brim, a blurry shape that he knows is Asami is watching him, like a hawk seeking its prey.

Without breaking eye contact, Akihito pushes his glasses back up with an unsteady hand.

Asami returns to his meeting before Akihito can see his smile, but he reads it anyhow in the set of his shoulders. The toy returns to a slower setting.

Akihito bends over and presses his overheated face to the mercifully cool tabletop. He's glad Asami made him keep the disguise after all, since they hide his flushed face. He huffs a laugh.

The vibe presses against something deep inside and he bites back a moan. He closes his eyes and holds on.

Time passes in hot flashes, awareness dictated by the intensity of the pulsing waves crashing into him. Akihito slowly erodes until he's lost in the flow.

*

When Akihito next opens his eyes, someone has dropped a tall glass of ice water on the table. He takes a sip and realises his throat is parched. He swallows the rest of the drink in one gulp. It's only as he sets it back on the table that he notices the vibrations shaking his world apart have stopped. In fact, the whole club is quiet, entirely deserted. Save for Asami, who is sitting across him, legs crossed, flipping through something on his phone.

It's all too much and not enough. Akihito brain and mouth are disconnected, full of cotton.

“The meeting...?”

Asami glances up, locks his phone. “Is finished. Kazuma is handling the rest. He needs the experience.”

Akihito nods. He caught enough words to get that everything was fine. Exhaustion drags his eyelids down. Slouching down, he hisses when the toy shifts inside.

Asami gets up and tugs at his arm. “Come on, let's go home.”

*

Walking is awkward; Akihito lets Asami support most of his weight all the way to the limo waiting for them outside.

Once inside, Akihito melts into Asami's chest. He doesn't complain when Asami undoes both their belts and pants. Akihito is unbearably warm and sticky. He feebly helps by toeing off his shoes, then shakes his legs until his trousers slide down. In unspoken agreement, the glasses stay. The hat gets lost somewhere.

He straddles Asami, tugs at his tie with a growl, wanting it gone. Asami sits back and lets him battle the knot, clearly bemused. As soon as it is loose enough to expose the shirt collar, Akihito unbuttons it and latches onto Asami's neck, sucking hickeys into the hollows of his throat.

Asami hisses a breath between his teeth. His large hands grip Akihito's ass and rubs their groins together. Fingertips of one hand touch the plug's base and trace it's soft edges. Akihito fumbles his hands down and grasps their hard cocks. He strips them both with more enthusiasm than finesse, but Asami doesn't stop him.

Instead, he fiddles with the toy a little, before sliding one finger in, alongside. Akihito curses. The stretch is sharp and burns slightly, the perfect contrast for the numbness the overwhelming vibrations had brought earlier. He bears back down onto Asami's hand, needing him.

Abruptly, the buzzing starts again, and Akihito's back bows in shock. It's riding the edge of too much after the pause in sensations, and he knows he won't last long. Asami takes the opportunity to mouth at his nipple. Akihito whines and grips his hair to keep him in place. Playing with his chest normally hurts more than pleasures him, but right now he craves this particular torture.

“Please, Asami,” he begs freely into Asami's hair.

Asami grips the plug's base and starts pulling it out. Akihito moans loudly and digs his fingernails into Asami's back, trying to hold on. The toy pops out, still buzzing, and gets dropped to the floor. Neither of them can spare the energy to care, because Akihito is already raising himself on his knees and Asami is lining up his dripping cock in practiced unison.

They both groan in relief as Akihito sheathes Asami inside himself in one long, smooth slide. This stretch is familiar, the strength of Asami's grip of his hips grounding. Akihito wraps his arms around Asami's neck and rides them both to completion.

*

They're in bed, hair still wet from the shower and limbs heavy with sleep when Akihito remembers the point he wanted to make earlier. His head is pillowed on Asami's chest and he doesn't bother opening his eyes to mumble, “I wouldn't have to snoop if you just told me things.”

Under his cheek, Asami's ridiculously chiseled rib cage rumbles pleasantly.“You don't really want to know everything.”

Akihito starts to protests, but Asami squeeze his neck possessively, the way he does every time after Akihito flirts with danger, ever since the start.

Akihito crumples. “Okay, okay, point taken. But you could at least tell me _some_ things.”

“I'll consider it,” Asami says, and Akihito finds himself believing him.

He relaxes into Asami's hold, traces the scar beneath his left shoulder. 

“I'm glad it went well.”

“The whole club was protecting me.” Asami dismisses. “If the client had tried anything, she'd have been killed in an instant.”

At Akihito's puzzled look, he explains, "the club was closed to the public. Every patron was mine.”

“Oh." Well. That explains why it emptied out as soon as the meeting was over. Akihito frowns. “Then why did you let me in?”

Asami sighs as if he's too tired for this conversation, but Akihito knows intimately that he has better stamina than that. He's faking it, even uncomfortable, perhaps. Why?

He reflects on the evening. The situation was perilous and stupid and yet super hot, which is normal for him now when he's out with Asami. But it was also nice to just... be out together, among people who didn't seem to care or notice. If it had been a normal night in a regular club, they would have simply been two men who sort of shared a drink together.

Akihito startles. “We were on a date!”

Asami is silent for so long Akihito raises his head up to look at his face. Asami's mouth is twisted, the edges of his eyes are crinkling. The bastard is laughing his head off. “I wondered if you would notice.”

Akihito huffs and puffs and even tries to hit Asami with a pillow, though it is deftly caught mid-swing and only earns him a light spank for his trouble.

He sighs and settles back onto Asami's chest. “Worst date ever.”

Asami pets his ass. “Next time, you can choose what we do. Within limits.”

“I'll consider it,” Akihito retorts cheekily. But he can't stop smiling.


End file.
